A Day In The Life
by Problem Child1
Summary: A day in the life of our favorite LDB memebers from Stephanie's point of view. Future-fic, one-shot.


Disclaimer: Amy and Daniel Palladino, along with the rest of the WB, own Gilmore Girls. I'm just borrowing the characters. The Beatles own "A Day In The Life."

A/N2: This is a one-shot that I've had rolling around in my head for quite a while. It's future-fic, PDLD(as always, haha), but told in Stephanie's point of view. She fascinates me, so I've been wanting to write a story circling around her because there aren't enough about her. If I feel strongly enough, or get inspired enough, there may be a sequel in the future. This is also dedicated to **Bookworms**, because we think almost exactly alike. Hope you like it!

When first approached with the idea, Stephanie had been thrilled. A chance to live with the three people she adored most in the world? How could she not say yes? They were family to her, the people she shared everything with. Sometimes it was downright creepy.

However, the novelty had worn off and she realized how annoying it actually was. What had she been smoking when she agreed to live with three boys? Granted, it was a penthouse so space wasn't a problem. No, it was everything else. For one, they preferred the Simpson version of cleaning. They never went shopping for food, and Colin was constantly "mistaking" her bed for his, even when he had company.

And god help her, she loved every one of her boys. They never ceased to make her laugh and they always had the best times at parties. In fact, Finn had been the one to help her perfect her tabletop dancing skills that she was so known for.

As she lay in bed, she heard the door slam indicating the last one to leave. She didn't have a job, another perk of living with the boys because she didn't have to pay rent. She could blow her trust fund on more important things, such as clothes.

Speaking of which, she had to get out of bed. She checked her clock; an hour and a half to her nail appointment. After that, lunch with Finn followed by shopping, a hair appointment, and a make up appointment. She had a charity event her mother wanted her to go to, and she didn't even have a dress yet.

Rory was eating cereal and reading the newspaper at the table when Stephanie emerged from her room. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat opposite of Rory. "Don't you have work?"

"I don't have to go in until this afternoon." Rory was a common figure around the apartment, first when she was dating Logan and now as she was secretly seeing Finn. Stephanie only knew because she'd walked in on them together one time.

"Joining Finn and I for lunch?" she questioned.

Rory turned the page. "Not today. I'm having lunch with my editor. Apparently she doesn't like my column; having an opinion is bad. But Finn and I are going out to dinner tonight. Charity event?"

Stephanie grimaced. "Unfortunately. I'm bringing Logan, partially because he's been roped into this parading of the wealthiest people, and partially so my mother doesn't try to hook me up with any of the creepy sons of her DAR friends again."

Rory laughed. "Remember the one with Tourettes?"

"What about the Jeff Spicoli wannabe your grandmother set you up with?" Stephanie shot back.

Rory groaned. "Don't remind me, I'm still repressing. He wasn't like that at the party, though."

"That's what they all say," Stephanie patronized. "It's a great thing you've got Finn now, though."

Rory smiled. "Yeah."

Stephanie took another sip of her coffee. "Do you wanna get your nails done with me?"

"Sure, that'd be nice."

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"You're late," Finn accused playfully.

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she sat down. Leave it up to Finn to find the most posh and hidden place he could. "Irony's a bitch," she muttered. She was always nagging him about being late.

"Nope!" he gleefully corrected. "Irony is delicious fun."

She opened her menu. "Have you ordered yet?"

"Subtle," he replied condescendingly. "And no, I have not. I, unlike some people, am not rude."

"I resent that!" she cried.

"Why?" he asked innocently. "I was talking about Colin."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure."

He smirked and put his menu down. "I did call this meeting for a reason, you know."

"You're actually getting to the point? Within a reasonable amount of time?" Stephanie teased. "First sign of the apocalypse. I think this work thing is seeping into your brain."

"I know, didn't that sound official?"

"I was stunned."

"I live to shock you, doll."

The waitress came by to get Stephanie's drink order and their lunch orders. When she left, Stephanie leaned forward and said, "So you said something about a point?"

"Ah, yes, my point. It's a very good, sexy point," he informed her.

"I'm sure. Do I get to hear said point?" She was used to his tangents. It usually took him to the end of lunch to get to a point.

"Anything for you, love." He winked as she picked up her water. "I'm going to ask Rory to move in with us."

Stephanie's eyes widened and she began to cough as the water went down wrong. "Don't do that while I'm drinking!"

Finn looked down and stuck out his lower lip. "I wasn't kidding." He had a look on his face akin to what it would look like if Stephanie were to kick his puppy.

"Oh, honey," she cooed, patting his hand sympathetically. "I know it's killing you having to keep this from Logan."

"And you're coughing didn't help," he pouted. "He knows something is up, and I love that you're covering for us, but you can't do it for-bloody-ever."

She sighed. "How about you tell him tomorrow?"

"Why not today?"

"Because I want him happy today, he's more fun that way. Plus, I don't feel like getting blood stains on my dress," she explained.

He nodded his head. "And this whole thing is about you, of course."

"Naturally."

"How do you think I should do this?"

"Cautiously," she advised.

He made a face at her. "Be serious."

"I am!" She stuck her tongue out at him. They were really overgrown kids, posing at responsible adults. Well, not really posing. They were horrible actors. After spending five minutes with the two of them, anyone could tell.

"Then give me actual, good advice!"

"Who do you think I am? Dear Abby?"

"No, I think you're smarter than that old broad."

"But she's an actual advice columnist. I don't even work!"

"Her sister died. She's old. Give me advice."

"Demanding," she sang.

He pouted. "You're mean."

"Okay, okay, you want advice? Get him drunk, tell him and while he's inebriated, move in all of Rory's stuff. Get in on tape, also, so you can play back his reaction the next day."

"That's not funny."

"And then you can play back his reaction for all of us. It'll be better if Colin and I are there."

"I'm going to Colin for advice."

"His idea will be the same as mine; that I can guarantee you."

"I get absolutely no bloody support from either of you."

"No, but you get our undying love and adoration."

"That makes up for it."

"Narcissist."

"Damn straight."

She giggled. "What are you getting?"

"I'm thinking of ordering the most expensive thing on the menu, and then sending it back because it has something on it that I don't like."

Stephanie shook her head and muttered sarcastically, "Rory's a lucky girl."

Logan was out talking to his limo driver when Stephanie emerged from her room, all dolled up and ready to go. Her dress was a silver color and shimmered with each step she took. The silk hugged her curves without giving away too much, and her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she got to the kitchen.

"You look marvelous, darling," Finn told her from the frame of his doorway. She turned around to face him, and he strode over to her and kissed her hand.

"Thank you, Finn." She twirled so he could see the whole thing. "Are you going to pick up Rory?"

"After you and dear Logan leave. I'd prefer not to be interrogated about my business, and as to why I look so undeniably sexy in a tux."

"Modest, too. Is there anything not wrong with you?" she teased.

He considered this a moment. "No."

She laughed. "I'm meeting Logan downstairs. Good luck with tonight."

He smiled at her, a real, sincere smile. "Thank you, doll. You too."

She smiled back. "Thanks, Finn. Tell Ror I say hi."

She passed Colin on the way out of the building. He looked her up and down and cat-called. She blushed and preened for him. He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Have fun tonight. And remember, if anyone gives you any trouble, I'll be down there at a moment's notice to rough them up a little." He winked at her.

She laughed. "Leave your date for me? I feel important."

"You should. I must go freshen up, but I'll see you later tonight." He paused, and then added, "Maybe."

"Good luck to you, also." She grinned at him and stepped into the warm night. It was late August, and the cold air conditioning of the limo beckoned her.

Logan stood by the door to grasp her hand and help her in. Soon they were off to the gala they were both obligated to go to; each of them not-so-secretly wished Colin and Finn had to endure this with them.

When they finally got there, Logan helped her out. They posed for the photographers of the society pages before walking inside, their arms hooked at the elbows. Logan gave his most charming smile as he passed the photographers and Stephanie bit her lip and gave her patented innocent-slash-bashful pose she was known for.

"Don't leave me with my parents and I won't leave you with yours," Logan whispered to her.

"Deal," she promised.

"Bar or parents?" he asked, scanning the room. His mother was mingling with a few of her friends, and his father was in deep conversation with a possible business associate. Stephanie's mother was hanging off the arm of her current beau, a thirty-eight year old named Victor, while her father talked with Logan's father and his possible business associate.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" she shot back.

"I was just testing you."

The two ordered their free drinks- she a Cosmopolitan and he a White Russian- and gathered up the courage necessary to face their parents. It was customary to greet the parents before anyone else, lest they find out that their children were there second-hand. The one thing Logan and Stephanie could always bond over were their parents- neither had especially wonderful parents, even worse than Colin or Finn.

"The father's first because they're together?" Stephanie suggested.

Logan grimaced. There was one person in this world he didn't get along with- his father. Unlike Stephanie, who got along rather well with her father, Logan avoided his like the plague. They were opposites when it came to their closest blood relatives; Stephanie bonded with her father while Logan tended to favor his mother. Classic Freud.

"Your mother it is," she muttered. He gripped her arm and they braved their way to the first of the series of tortures.

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"Okay, I'm ready to go," Stephanie announced only an hour and a half later.

Logan glanced at her. "You've got to be kidding; we've got to stay here at least two hours, you know that. There're people at the door, clocking the exact second we leave."

"But we've talked to almost every single person here," she whined. "If I talk to any more boring people about boring subjects, such as politics or sports, I will turn into Drew Barrymore in _Firestarter_."

"That would be tragic, Carrie," Logan sarcastically replied.

"Don't lie, you'd love it," she teased.

"Maybe," he drawled.

She laughed and took a sip of her drink. She'd changed to a Smokin' Bitch- something Logan had got a huge kick out of when he'd heard the name. She wondered what Finn and Colin were doing at that very moment. Finn was probably asking Rory to move in, and Colin was most likely trying to get laid.

Logan leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie a bit. "I'm bored as hell," he announced.

"Wanna play a game?" Stephanie asked.

He looked at her. "What kind of game?"

"Drinking one, obviously."

"The Penis game?"

"Nah, not here. Maybe at the movies next week."

He laughed and racked his brain for fun games that involved drinking, not that he could think of many that didn't have to do with drinking. "Drunk Singers?"

"Finn's not here," Stephanie sighed. "All song games are more fun with him."

"Okay, okay, I've got the perfect one!" he exclaimed. "Russian Roulette!"

"That's perfect!" she cried. "I'll ask the bartender if they have dice. And some shot glasses."

"I'm sure they have shot glasses, Steph."

"Yes, but can we have six?" she shot back.

"Fine, I'm not arguing. Go get the supplies, please."

Stephanie smiled seductively at the bartender. She recognized him from a few of the other events, and he was young enough so it wasn't gross. "Hey, Tony. Do you have a pair of dice, six shot glasses and Bacardi 151?"

"Playing a game?" he replied.

"Yeah." She looked back to Logan, but to her surprise his mother was there, talking to him. She could only imagine what she was telling him. He looked back at her, stricken, and shook his head slightly. She sighed. "Nevermind."

"Maybe next time."

"Maybe." She walked back to Logan, who stood up when she got close. "What's going on?"

"We're being forced to dance."

"Dance?" she echoed. She hadn't even noticed the orchestra pick up, nor the couples swaying in the middle of the room. "I hate dancing."

"I know, I know, I do also." He sighed and held out his hand to her. "Care to?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"Did we ever?"

She rolled her eyes and took his outstretched hand. He led her to the middle of the floor and twirled her slightly before wrapping one arm around her waist while the other still grasped her hand.

"Where do you want to go after this?" he asked.

Stephanie considered this; there were many places. "Somewhere to eat. Blue Water Grill."

Logan could feel his mouth begin to water. The restaurant, a seafood delicacy, was his newest favorite place to eat. He'd found it when his job sent him to California, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that there was one in New York. "You have my vote."

"Great. I'm starving."

"Did you even eat?"

"I ate at lunch," she admitted sheepishly.

"Stephanie!" he groaned.

"What? It's not like I meant to not eat, it just kinda happened."

"As long as you eat at dinner, I'll be happy." He always got like this when she didn't eat; the last thing he wanted was for her to not eat. She was like his little sister. They'd known each other for as long as either of them could remember.

"You don't have to worry about that," she promised.

He spun her around. "What time did you get up this morning?"

She shrugged. "Right after Finn left, I think."

"Oh, so you had breakfast with Rory?" he questioned nonchalantly.

Stephanie froze. "Excuse me?"

"Rory? Rory Gilmore? About five foot nine inches? Brunette? You know her."

"Rory hasn't been to the apartment since you two broke up," she lied.

Logan smirked. "I know about her and Finn."

"What? How?" Stephanie managed to say.

"Neither she nor Finn are particularly discreet." He leaned his head down to her ear. "Or quiet."

Stephanie snickered. "You've definitely got that right."

"Shocked?"

"Quite. How long have you known?"

"For about five months. I'm not mad, if that's what your wondering."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure, actually. Anyway, she's happy, he's happy, and I've got my best girl."

"Thanks, Logan."

"Not you, my girlfriend."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So you really aren't plotting Finn's death?"

"I swear. I'm hiring someone to do that for me."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a hug. "He wants her to move in."

"I'll help," he offered.

"I think they might tell you tomorrow."

"Do you want me to act shocked?"

"If you'd like," she teased.

He smirked again and spun her, this time catching her at the waist instead of the hand. "Do you wanna get out of here now?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What about the parental units?"

He shrugged. "Screw them. I'm starving."

The end


End file.
